


Sight and Sound

by MatthewTheFadeStrider



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: AU, Bastard Child, F/M, Humorous Hawke, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Change to Garret Hawke's Appearance, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatthewTheFadeStrider/pseuds/MatthewTheFadeStrider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrett and his family escape the circle, and along with their elven traveling companions begin the journey to freedom. Along the way, Garrett ends up seeing an old friend...</p><p> </p><p>DISCONTINUED</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "The Way We Used To Be"

Eyes blinked open to greet the harsh sun, blood stained across the darkened lashes that hung over Carver's eyes. Fainted in battle...again.  
  
"Enjoy your nap while the grown ups talked? You know, you could have just stayed back and painted your nails with your mother, you probably would have even looked good in pink." There was the bastard's voice, and he hated every single sound wave of it. He was going to be glad when he was gone.  
  
Meanwhile, Malcolm was having a hard time not laughing at his Bastard's jokes, perhaps because he was sad at what was to come. Sometimes, Garrett seemed more like his father than the youngest, more legitimate children, did.  
  
"I refuse to respond to one of your redonculous insults." Carver recognized the childish...and rather made up word immediately.  
  
"Nice vocabulary, is that a new word in the text book "carver's dictionary"? Or is that your actual brain functioning the way it's supposed to...you know, before it was - what you call - educated?"  
  
"Shut up." A smirk, there was always that smirk. He was tired of that smirk. Boy was Carver tired of that smirk. "Just because you were allowed in the family doesn't make you any less of a mongrel."  
  
"You're taking this pissing match to far." Dark brushed hair was smeared with blood on his face, signature aquamarine eyes glowering over the top of his broken-bridged nose. The small streak of permanent blood there practically boiled under the side of his gaze.  
  
There.

It was gone, and he'd never been more content to see it swiped of his half-brother's face. Carver quickly replaced his half-brother's smirk, with his own. Unfortunately Malcolm was irritated at his children's usual biting contest today, and stepped in. "Enough boys." He said, then shaking his head green eyes gazed upwards to intake the surrounding scene.  
  
Mordred was a hop, skip, and a jump off - his elf ears sticking out behind him with one piece of skin hanging of the right.  
  
"Hold up, Mordy." Garrett reached out as the elf's nickname was spoken; green eyes blinking he flicked of the hanging gore. "There...clean as a...well...mess....but better!"  
  
Mordred gave his usual responding eye roll and a following chuckle before he scanned his blue eyes over the landscape as well. The surrounding environment was typical of the Hinterlands, green and lush with rolling hills. They were near Redcliffe farms, so there was Drufflo grazing below their place in elevation. "We're not far now, yes?"

"You know Fereldan as well as I, Mordred, your people having roamed it for years...but yes." Malcolm responded, straight to business as it should be. "Yes...it shouldn't be far and we will have reached the caravan."

"So they are taking us somewhere useful this time, yes?" Bethany said hopefully, dark eyes set as she made her way up the hill towards them - aiding Leandra. Behind them was the family Mabari, tongue lulling to the side with a gleeful air to it. "Not just another place like Lothering."

"No, I believe they said they were taking us to Amaranthine to join the Wardens." Carver said with a touch of sarcasm, shaking his head.

"I'd take the Wardens over the blighted Circle. Try something else that involves...oh say...I don't know...the Circle?" Garrett looked at Carver with a half cocked expression.

"We should move, the Slavers won't wait forever until they catch up to our bodyguard." Carver said just to get under someone's skin in his typical fashion.

Fenris glowered through his cold eyes, medium length hair shrouding his face, but certainly not hiding his responding anger. He kept it in check, because these were the first allies he'd had in a while...even if he found Carver's company to be...rather un-agreeable.

"You know, you could...lets say, compliment the guy who is saving your sorry arse for once? Show a little gratitude, I know that's uncomprehendingly hard for you, Carver, but Maker - is nobody safe from your lashes?"

Fenris almost flinched at the turn of phrase, but managed to show no visible signs that it tormented him.

Garrett continued without regard, "Besides the fact that I still have to put up with you for another week."

"Week? Are you planning on ridding yourself of him?" Fenris' attempt to ask after the same question didn't go unnoticed. This 'week' thing had been floating about for a while in a few conversations among the group. When he'd casually asked about it the first time the conversation had been directed elsewhere, after a few awkward coughs and a large amount of silence.

"No." Garrett said, inwardly sad but outwardly trying to sound joking, "I'm actually going to go into theater. Thinking of having my own stage name...perhaps 'The Hawke of'-"

"-Imbecile? That sounds like a good one for you." Carver grunted.

"Oh Carver, I'm so proud you came up with a three syllable word. Congratulations, would you like a gold star on your armor-?" The mage responded.

"Enough!" Malcolm snapped behind him, then turned his attention once more to the road ahead. "If we can make it one more mile, there's a house just outside the forest where we can meet a man from the mage underground. His name is Thrask, good one that one...but an ex-templar."

"Well...an ex-templar wouldn't be the first place i'd look..." Garrett plainly said with an uncased, but humorous expression.

"We should move on. Quickly." 

"Fenris is right, many creatures move in the hinterlands around these parts...not all friendly." Mordred looked through the air, rolling his shoulders.

There was no more dialogue before they went that time.

 

* * *

 

They were beaten down when they made it in, having traveled for weeks just to get away from the Circle Tower until they could feel no more. It was elaborate, a Templar having helped them escape. Thrask hushed them into the barn around the back of his place, sending them into the rafters were several well placed beds of hay and fur were placed. Silence assumed, for most, when they got there as some were to tired to continue. They barely slept over the course of a week, not risking rest while they traveled away from the place. They'd met the two elves, Mordred, a former Warden Officer running from his past, and Fenris, a previous Slave running from his Master, along the way. 

Naturally, Carver didn't like them, Garrett made Fenris laugh for the first time in ages, and Bethany was as kind to both of them as anyone. Malcolm had suggested they join in, as there might be more strength in numbers. Fenris had found out about their story and was reluctant, claiming that he would prefer not to travel with dangerous apostates...but Mordred had quickly convinced him it was a good idea.

At the same time, there was also a great risk, as they were a large group traveling together under no particular banner.

Not to mention the - oh so little fact that - half of them were mages.

Garrett situated himself down on his area with a heaping sigh of relief and sorrow. Tomorrow would be the start of the last week he'd ever have with his family. Although he would particularly miss his half-sister, Bethany, and his mirror image father, Malcolm...

He might miss Leandra's hard looks of a child that wasn't her own, and the heaping helping of Carver's pissy attitude. I suppose, you get used to the people you are around...and even those you don't always get along with....you still miss.

Garrett turned over towards the Warden, eyes just as open as Mordred's. He'd known him for a few days...and yet had already grown accustomed to the Dalish elf tagging along wherever they went. Same went with Fen, even if he got tired of his opinions on mages in general. 

He flopped back restlessly onto his back, staring into silence and taking notice of a large hole in the wooden ceiling. I suppose the barn must be considerably old, which explains that. There was a rustle and a creaking of wood...a small cat suddenly landed on his front, giving him a wide meow.

"Pounce, no!" Was the statement that followed, before the sudden intruder in Garrett's line of sigh, was lifted swiftly into arms of a semi-familiar looking mage. "I'm so sorry, he's never been out of the-don't I know you? You were in the circle, weren't you? I saw you in a class once...while we were discussing demons. Garrett Hawke, yes?"

The familiar mage was a precious sight, as Garrett never thought he'd see anyone from his past again...even if he'd gladly not see them if that meant being drug back to the circle. Unfortunately, Anders took the pause to mean Garrett didn't recognize him. "I was the one who healed your wounds after you set your robes on fire-"

"In my defense, I was ten." Was the immediate response. There was a swift laugh that passed between the two of them, "I'm sorry I can't remember your name though..."

"I..." The mage paused, blonde hair swaying back and forth in the cross breeze set up from the small cracks in the wood. "...they call me Anders."

"Oh yeah, that's it. The Anders boy."

He nodded, "That would be me: the amazing, gorgeous, alluring Anders boy with talented fingers and outrageous magical aptitude!"

"Sparklefingers." He laughed, remembering the whispered name among the circle. "Not to mention overzealous." He shrugged, plopping down uninvited, but not unwelcome, next to Garrett. Garrett's head tilted as he asked the question of the century. "So, how'd you escape? Or is this one of your 'trip of freedom' runs."

"Phylactery is destroyed and all."

"Well...color me impressed."

"It's not that hard for me to impress people...after all: I'm amazing, charming, intelligent, and talented with irresistable looks...did I ever mention how amazing I am?"

This got a laugh out of Garrett. "Your reputation for narcissism proceeds you, Mr. Sparklefingers."

"As does your humor, Mr. Hawke." 

There was another simultaneous laugh, in which Carver lifted his head afterwards and said. "Would you two turtle-doves cut it out? For Maker's sake, be quiet for once in your life." He flopped down again, only half awake. "Some of us are trying to rest."

"Ah, and I see you haven't managed to 'accidentally' get rid of the grumpy sort from your presence?" Anders said, remembering Carver's reputation.

"I'm kind of wishing I had 'accidentally' gotten rid of him. It's unfortunate I didn't follow up on the urge."

"Oh grow up already would you three?!" Bethany's voice carried over.

"Sorry, Beth." Bethany was probably the only person whom Garrett was sincerely nice to, rather than with his signature snark. They lowered their voices to continue, as if old friends catching up over tea. "So how did you escape anyways?"

"A wizard."

"Oh, and I'm sure the 'amazing talented good looking' sort?"

"Bravo. You catch on quickly, Mr. Hawke."

"Call me a fast learner, Mr. Sparklefingers." He said with a smirk.

"Shut up already." Carver called over.

"Do you have any sentences besides shut up, Carver? I wouldn't have realized it." Garrett said. "I suppose I should stop holding out hope you'll grow a brain filled with the English language, someday."

"Maker, I hate you..." He muttered.

Anders leaned back and admittedly, smirked up at the roof.

Garrett laid back after, turning his head over with a cheeky green of his own. "How did you get that cat, anyways?"

"It's a simply dreadful tale filled with an amazing protagonist facing down the wilds of Fereldan while trying not to get eaten...or killed...or stung...or destroyed by the horrifying nature all around him...and a romantic vision of freedom, while he unexpectedly runs into his sidekick along the way..."

Garrett's grin couldn't get wider as he said without thought. "You should come with us." He sat up unexpectedly, quick enough that it almost made pounce jump and hiss.

"What?" Ser-Pounce was not pleased with Anders when he sat up, slightly, shifting his body over into an uncomfortable state of being. He let him know with a sharp mew, annoyed with both Anders and Garrett from their movements in the past few seconds.

"Yeah. We need a healer..." He tried to back it up with facts and reasoning behind saying the words.

"Doesn't sound like the worst idea Garrett has ever had." Malcolm was sitting up against the wall, apparently not asleep. "We could use someone proficient with healing abilities. What say you, boy?"

"Well...I suppose I could come-" Anders was flushed, feeling like he didn't have much of a choice.

"Fantastic!" Garrett clasped him on the back, welcoming him unto the fold with the biggest grin of his life.

This night had gone so fast Anders could barely keep up, even after when Garrett had already fallen asleep to old tales of when they were in the circle he still was in partial shock. 

_Would I regret joining the Hawkes and these Elves?_

He figured the answer to his precarious question would be answered sooner than he'd enjoy...


	2. The Way We Are Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders joins the gaggle of mages, wardens, and a slave trying to escape their former life. Anders finds that Hawke has changed considerably since his time as a fellow apprentice, and doesn't fail to notice the finer points of it. The road begins to make Anders realize; however, that perhaps he was a little to hasty in offering his services as healer.
> 
>  
> 
> _He never would have believed how amazing Garrett really looked, even in this light. None the less, he was wearily noting the blood splattered across the dark ground from his own body. Why was he stitching himself up? He should be worrying about them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, if you were looking for one of my darker stories you haven't found it. You should turn around and go back to my works, click on My Immortal and read about mages being systematically abused by Templars in a hell-hole stationed in the Anderfells. This one is a comedic and emotional relief story for me while I write My Immortal. My Immortal I temporarily considered giving up on because it's emotionally traumatic and draining. It takes a lot of effort to put into something sad, and I was running out of juice for it. Instead, I decided to create a happy, fluffy, adorable, and balancing outlet. This is what came of the thought...
> 
> I named the story after an essay I had to write while in high school that was in English IV. It was about describing things based upon tangible adjectives, and not direct nouns. I couldn't write the words 'thing, etc, that, this" or any other extraneous wide description. I had to push my brain to come up with exact descriptions of a story I wrote. It could have been a story about vampires or even two boys playing with toy soldiers. All I had to do was describe it via sounds, sights, and scents. One of the quotes from my essay was "...sight and sound took hold like a void gripping onto happiness, eating it away with a vengeance as the boy realized his parent was nowhere in his vision's detection."
> 
> It inspired an idea for this story, which I promptly forgot about until months after creating the account when It was the first reason for doing so.

Anders found himself unable to sleep, the excitement of the day and the escape was beginning to burn from his veins. His mind was back at the tower, where he'd left Karl. Karl hadn't made it out of the circle as Anders did, he was caught and forced Anders to keep going without conscience.

_Go. Or this endeavor is wasted. I'll meet you in Denerim when this is all over. GO!_

Anders rolled over, relishing in the thought of meeting him again but worried how long Karl would be in solitary. He ignored the thought and opened his eyes to the face of whom had just accepted him into a traveling group. Hawke was laid out facing the ceiling, having fallen asleep after their previous discussions of unimportant and some important topics. 

Hawke...

I suppose that was his name in a sense. Malcolm Hawke was his father certainly, but it had been widely whispered through-out the circle that Garrett's legitimacy was in question. He shared no visible traits of the Amell line, and he also showed unusually colored eyes. His father's eyes weren't that strange color, and Leandra's were completely different. Garrett had hazel-yellow directly next to his pupil that spanned out into green and finalized into a glorious aqua sapphire blue (around the outer rims of his irises). The colors, from a distance, looked like Aquamarine, but Anders had seen them up close a few times enough now he could tell the difference. Not that he tried to get to up close and personal with the Hawke child or...anything. He'd seen his eyes while tending to his wounds once, and now he'd seen them again - only two feet away from his own eyes. The close proximity felt strange to Anders, but it wasn't like these were luxury quarters. This was the mage underground, after-all, not motel-de-magi.

Anders realized he was gawking at Garrett and cleared his throat quietly, rolling onto his back again. He grew uncomfortable in this position fast; however, so he rolled back onto his side. Rather than keeping his eyes on Garrett, he closed the nutmeg coloration off only to fall into a itchy subconsciousness filled with worried dreams of Karl, and a tangle of emotions regarding his estranged sentiments towards Garrett.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't uncommon for Anders to wake up like this...arms holding a body from the night before with his hands firmly planted against the small of their back or even the abs on their front. It depended on what position they landed when they fell asleep, in fact it was barely a cognitive thing he did. Most of the time he pulled the person close out of habit...sometimes he pulled them close for his own sake. Sometimes, nighttime was harsh to him, the fade mingling with uncomfortable dreams. Waking up cuddling someone close was comforting to him, so he'd often nuzzle his face into whomever had slept with him the night before. He had done males and females in the past, it didn't matter whom he was holding for to him it was only a matter of mutual satisfaction. If they both enjoyed themselves, both got off, and both got a trip to defy the Templars there was no question in his mind it was right.

He'd never cared much to discuss genders - men and women alike had always appealed to him.

He nuzzled his face into the shoulder of whomever he was holding, letting out a huff of satisfaction for a split second. Then he realized his bed was rather rough, and he could feel bits of...grass? No...something pokey and uncomfortable, on his robes...

It came back to him in a rush as the other person shifted in his arms...

Anders eyes flew open only to stair at a barely awake Garrett, whom was just getting himself out of his dreams as well. The two were being ogled by Garrett's half sister, whom had one eyebrow raised across the room. They were lucky she was the only one awake or they might not have heard the end of the situation.

They both jumped back from each-other, clearing their throats awkwardly and running shaky fingers through their perspective hair lines. Anders flipped back messy bangs and whistled nonchalantly, blushing so hard he swore he looked like all the blood in his entire body had went to his cheeks. Garrett cleared his throat a second time and coughed, eyes wide and hands fumbling with the ruffled up clothes he was wearing. He made a show of straightening them, which probably would have made things worse.

Bethany had the decency not to say anything, and merely stretched out her legs, looking outside a large crack in the barn's wall.

Anders coughed after this, "Morning." He said, voice dry. Why did that sound higher than his usual voice? He fumbled just to find his pony-tail as he spoke, realizing that he'd taken it out.

Garrett responded with the same, though his voice was calm and it didn't help Anders' incredible embarrassment. For once, Anders' ego had taken a nose-dive, fading towards a more chagrin turn.

Malcolm had the excellent timing to wake up at that moment, and push around the kids to get them going. Dawn was about to break, and so they needed all the time they could get to travel. "Not long now, we should meet the Caravan on the road if we can catch up." He spoke out after they thanked Thrask and set out on their merry way.

Garrett and Anders couldn't even look at each-other, right now, without their minds falling to their wake up call. They stood on opposite ends of the traveling party, and found themselves fidgeting or trying to engage their attention elsewhere. 

They must have walked for an hour before they were ambushed again, the silence squeezing against Garrett's lungs as the time ticked away. Six days...

When the bandits swooped out of nowhere, Garrett pulled around his staff and summoned a fireball to his palm. "We're under ATTACK, what a SURPRISE!" He shouted as the battle began.

Anders pulled a red and silver staff out, and fought along side them. For the first time the awkward tension left the air, replaced with the adrenaline that came with warfare. Malcolm threw the bandits about with his force magic, combining it with strikes of Carver's sword when they ended up being thrown towards him. Leandra stepped behind Bethany, while the female twin summoned electricity to her palms, blasting back a particular rogue that got to close for comfort. Garrett's eyes were wandering out of habit, for he had inducted an instinct to keep his eyes peeled, for any unwanted Templars, and there-forth had transitioned the erratic movements easily, to aid him, into the blood pumping drums of conflict. As he summoned a barrage of flames to strike the ground, causing their enemies to stumble through the fiery balls until they recovered or fell, he noticed all the while that a rogue was rushing behind Anders to flank him. Garrett turned as soon as he was done and shifted out his hand, the simple motion trapping the enemy in a arcane trap. The bandit gasped, body rising up in mid air while shaking from the brilliant spell.

Anders' eyes flickered behind him at the sounds, eyes looking over gratefully at Garrett for a split second. Even if he was to proud to admit it verbally, he was in his debt now, and wouldn't forget it. He may have a lot to be proud of...  
  
_I mean just look at me._  
  
...but he never forgets a debt.

 He gave Garrett, a perhaps borderline tender expression, before turning around and blasting the rogue with fire.

 

* * *

 

"Jesus, Anders? Kill it with fire much?" Garrett trotted over to him some time later, despite the limp in his upbeat stride, with a _delicious_ jovial smirk on his face.

Anders filed away the fact that he described it with the word delicious, in some dark vault of his mind, and lit up his face to match. "Oh, and you have room to talk, Pot?" He gestured idly with his head, jerking towards the pile of charred bodies Garrett had since accumulated.

"Well-" He cleared his throat, "I just expected better of you. Now, myself - you shouldn't expect any less than murder and weird goings on..."

" _Riiiiight_. Will note that for later, thank you for reminding me, Pot." He smirked at the slight annoyed twitch to Garrett's eyes, realizing smugly he'd gotten to him with that nickname.

"Turtle doves?" Carver sounded annoyed, "Are we moving or are you two going to start bending each-other over, over there? Because you're both really starting to get on my nerves."

"Everything gets on your nerves." Garrett bit back with mild irritation, but a bright red expression on his face.

"Especially you, Mongrel."

"I'm _soooo_ sorry about that, Needle Dick."

"Enough, both of you." Malcolm glanced over his shoulder quickly, gesturing for them to start off. "Carver stop antagonizing your brother; Garrett, stop making accurate insults." Malcolm was as bad as Garrett with his jokes, often teasing Carver. Although, unlike Garrett, he didn't truly mean the statements. Although Garrett suddenly had a smug expression, Carver glared at the both of them and began brooding - looking worse than Fenris did.

Anders began enjoying this family, feeling right at home. This time, he took station right behind the dark hair elf that was traveling with them, right next to Garrett. Garrett smirked over at him, and said nothing. The tension was no longer there, and therefore it was easy to whisper about 'accurate' insults towards Carver, and where he could take his sword to.

 

* * *

 

Garrett flopped back on the grass and sprawled out his legs lazily, looking into the embers with his multicolored eyes. Hearing a crunching chorus of grass and noting a pair of legs, from his peripheral vision, he turned his head to find the familiar frame of Anders drop down beside him. "How now, brown cow?"

"Truly, Garrett?" Anders chortled at the phrase, disturbed on some level and laughing on another. He let out a soft chuckle, the sound notably pleasant to Garrett's ears.

The sound itself was grand, rumbling like the beginning of a soft earthquake, and yet gentle like a butterfly landing on a flower. "Truly." Garrett said with a bumptious satisfaction on his attempted goofy-ass.

"I didn't know you knew what a cow was." Carver bit from across the camp, just because he could.

"What was that Carver? I can't hear you."

"I'm not responding to that."

"You already have, br _oooooo-_ ther." With the kind of emphasis he put on the sound, you'd swear he was slapping Carver in the face physically with the letter O.

"Would you two cut it out?" Mordred snapped from his place beside the fire, "You're driving us all up a wall."

"Wall? What wall? I see no walls." Garrett's smart attitude made Mordred's eye twitch.

"He was being metaphorical, Mage." Fenris said, still not on the best terms with Garrett.

Malcolm was sound asleep by this time, but as a parent and a mage, he'd learned never to keep to deeply into rest. His attention was alert, even when his subconscious had taken over.

Bethany comforted Leandra, from the all too close experience with the Rogue, but she'd long since come to terms with the fact that her half-brother and twin were both complete idiots. "I'm on Mordred's side, on this one, cut it out."  
  
"Cut what out?" He said, holding up a dagger he'd taken from a Rogue, whom was probably laying charred up on grass right now (possibly being eaten by black wolves).

A collective groan broke out from everyone, while Leandra just glared at Garrett. Garrett and her didn't get along very well, but how would you expect one to get along with someone whom is a bastard of their husband? Garrett's eyes drifted away when he caught her eyes, and he put the dagger away to fidget. Anders noticed and blinked, biting back something he was going to say. Perhaps it was best to sit down and not rock the boat...  
  
Wise words.  
  
Anders mentally noted he'd have to make that into a song. Somehow he found this all childish, and yet somehow amusing...

Anders once had a sibling, a long time ago whom was named oddly by their parents. He remembered him fondly, though Anders always teased him with the statement _'Justice, you do have a stick up your ass, you know that, right?'_  
  
He remembered fondly how he would respond with, _'I do not believe so, brother; however, that would be quite painful to deal with...'_  
  
He'd tease him some more, dragging the experience out in the same way every time it played out. _'It's certainly painful for me.'_ Anders would laugh at the gross innuendo, chest rumbling.

Justice would tilt his head, blinking blue eyes in that monotone questioning way he did. _'Are you in need of some assistance with that situation? It seems quite unjust for someone to wander around with such a unfortunate problem...'_

Anders would fall to the floor, giggling and spluttering only to the amused and curious expression of his sibling.

The blonde tilted his head down as he remembered his older sibling dying trying to protect him from the Templar's grasp. _'No mage should live underneath the grasp of overlords, my younger brother. Hide, I shall strike them down so that we may leave onward.'_  
  
_'Justice-'_  
  
_'Stay. When I shall return, we will proceed to Tevinter.'_  
  
But he didn't return...and Anders didn't go to Tevinter with Justice.

Anders tilted his head back mournfully to the sky only to realize Garrett was staring at him.

"Anders, you in there? Elluuuuuuu!" He knocked on Anders' head softly.

"Andraste's knicker-weasels!" He jumped, spluttering mildly, "Do be careful! I have such a precious head, Garrett, you would not want to damage it, would you?"

"Oh! I apologize to your precious head!" He held up his hands submissively, a smirk on his head.

"My glorious head, Garrett. And do not fear, it forgives you...for now."

"For now." He laughed as if the thought was alien.

"Yes, for now, Garrett...meaning my head will judge your sensitivity, sincerity, and ability to be forgiven pending your behavior from here." Suddenly his attention was caught back up on the stars. "You know..." He said as he laid back, intertwining his fingers behind his head on the grass. Garrett picked up on some kind of non-verbal cue and followed like he'd said 'simon says', "The stars map out a lot, Garrett."  
  
Garrett smiled fondly, as if Anders was preaching to the metaphorical choir...because lord knows Garrett couldn't sing if his life depended on it. "Father used to say that." Garrett tilted his head, "Back when it was..." He frowned, "Just me and him." Upon these quiet words, Anders' head tilted towards him, mouth opening slightly in surprise and curiosity. His interest was peaked now...for it was only Malcolm and Garrett who knew about this. Anders felt like he was suddenly playing witness to a quiet secret being exposed behind a curtain. Garrett proceeded, "He used to tell me every star had a story, and every constellation mapped out, was a cover to that story. It was like a preview to a time long before us, with some signifigance in history..."

Anders' mouth closed slowly as he continued, and he looked slowly back up towards the sky.

"...My mother used to say the same before..."

Anders' attention was REALLY peaked now.

"...before she...she died."

Anders turned his head, looking at the hurt expression on Garrett's face like a passing observer to a spectacle. Something about the look tugged at Anders' heart strings...perhaps as a healer, perhaps just because he was beginning to care deeply for him in the small span of time he'd traveled with him. Biting at his lip he turned his head towards the sky again, "Who was your mother, Garrett?" He said, softening his voice and laying out his ego so that it was merely a small piece of paper in comparison with the compassion that was mildly seeded within his heart, and had grown in the time he knew Karl Theklas.

He smiled sadly, "I'd...rather not talk about it. Maybe another time, Anders." He rolled over, turning his back to him so that he was curled up in a mock image of everyone else trying to get comfortable.

Guilty for no apparent reason that Anders could understand, Anders rolled over, so that he managed to get vertical, while realizing that it was because he'd lost someone dear to him before, too. He understood Garrett's pain, because he'd lost his brother like Garrett had lost his mother. Frowning deeply, Anders wandered over to where the edge of a cliff, overlooking the small valley below the cliffs were. He frowned down at the far away farms and closed his eyes in pain. It had been a long time since he'd thought about Justice...

13 when he'd died, Anders was barely old enough to gain control of his magic, Justice was the only man he had, since their parents had sacrificed their lives for them to run to safety from the grasp of the Templars...

Anders felt guilty, perhaps if he had known more about his magic...if he'd just studied rather than refusing to out of fear for exposing his brother and him...

....and then ending up having it reek havoc because he couldn't control it, in the middle of the town they'd been hiding in temporarily right after the blight...

Perhaps if he'd just studied...

It wouldn't have gone haywire on him, and he wouldn't have had to hide...

But perhaps if he hadn't tried to hide on Justice's command, and had went after him to aid him...

He'd be alive.

It was his fault.

Anders flopped down on his knees, looking out at the night with a sad expression on his face. Leaves and grass kicked up from where he'd landed, floating up into the air to bring a strange effect to his sorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs listened to during this chapter:
> 
> 1\. Blood on the Dance Floor/Jeffree Star: Sexting  
> 2\. Jenny Lewis: Barking at the Moon  
> 3\. Rusted Root: Send Me On My Way  
> 4\. GOT: Rains of Castamere  
> 5\. Rascal Flatts: Prayin' for Daylight  
> 6\. David Nail: Red Light  
> 7\. Carrie Underwood: Little Toy Guns  
> 8\. Fall Out Boy: Centuries  
> 9\. Owl City: Fireflies  
> 10\. Bright Eyes: Lover I Don't Have To Love  
> 11\. Pentatonix: AHA!  
> 12\. Mumford And Sons: Broken Crown  
> 13\. Don Henley: Sit Down, You're Rockin' The Boat  
> 14\. Lion King: We Are One
> 
> (that's right, the end of this scene is based around The Lion KIng)
> 
> Want to see Garrett's eyes? Click the link below:
> 
> http://data.whicdn.com/images/7022953/blue,eyes,cute,eyes,green,eyes,yellow-b883b4ce7c7643677edf281e0060d64b_h_large.jpg


End file.
